


Dreams and Murder

by OracleofDoom, PhryneFicathon



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Drugs, FCFics, Injury, Post Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 02:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17337011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OracleofDoom/pseuds/OracleofDoom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhryneFicathon/pseuds/PhryneFicathon
Summary: Phryne is more incapacitated than usual, but murder follows where she goes, regardless.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [propangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/propangel/gifts).



> Prompt: I still like the idea of a story reminiscent of "Rear Window." What I envision is Phryne being laid up for some reason, and she witnesses a murder on the foreshore. But there's no body or proof. Jack doesn't believe her, and Dot tries to help.

Boredom had always been a nemesis to Phryne Fisher. It was one she had historically found laughably easy to thwart, living life to the hilt, as Jack had put it. 

Now, Phryne found herself at its mercy.

She sat in her chair, from which she could not get up, scowling down at the cast on her leg. The strong mixture Mac had given her for the pain was beginning to wear off. Phryne felt an itch underneath her cast, well beyond her ability to reach. If Dot had not been so efficient in cleaning up after her meal, Phryne might have been able to try to use a fork to relieve the discomfort. 

With Mr. Butler on holiday, Dot had insisted that Phryne come and convalesce in the Collins home, so that someone could care for her while she was unable to get along on her own. It was very sweet, really, particularly since Dot was heavily pregnant at present. 

Poor Hugh was beside himself trying to get Dot to slow down, and ensuring Phryne’s comfort. Dot, however, seemed more confident and energetic than ever. Hugh’s anxiety barely seemed to touch her. She was enjoying taking care of Phryne, and she seemed to enjoy being pregnant. 

Phryne was grateful for the window with the view of the Collins’ neighborhood. It wasn’t as picturesque as the view from Wardlow or most of the places Phryne tended to stay, but it was far more interesting to watch the people bustling about outside as they went about their lives. This was the only weapon Phryne had against that nemesis.

There was the young couple with the little boy. Phryne guessed he was less than two years old. He was filthy every time she saw him, with food or mud or mucus, or a mix of the three, always on his face. She had learned the little boy’s name was Jack, because she heard the mother scolding him. She didn’t know the names of the parents.

_Jack._ She sighed. He was cross with her again, because she’d given him a fright. Again. 

But it wasn’t like before. He was with her. He wasn’t going anywhere this time. He just needed a little time to pull himself together. It probably wouldn’t be the last time Phryne had cause to run out in front of a streetcar. 

Phryne wished he’d hurry coming to terms with her accident. She missed him terribly, and no one was better at helping her to keep her nemesis at bay than Jack Robinson.

“Miss? Are you awake?” Dot’s voice was soft as she lightly tapped on the door frame. 

“Of course I am, Dot.” Phryne turned her head toward the door, smiling warmly at her protegė.

Dot had always been rosy-cheeked, but now with her round belly, she really did seem to have a glow about her. She carried a tray that smelled delicious from where Phryne sat. “I’ve brought you some supper. And your laudanum for the pain.”

“Dot, you are a gift. Thank you.”

Dot smiled and blushed prettily. “I wish I could stay and keep you company. I promised Miss Rogers across the street that I would bring her some supper as well.”

“Miss Rogers is the young lady across the way over there, is that right?” Phryne nodded toward the flat that had a single light shining.

“Peggy. Her mother is very ill and can’t take care of herself, and poor Peggy has been overwhelmed. I thought I could at least make some part of her day a little bit easier for her.”

“Very thoughtful of you, Dot.”

“I’ll come back to keep you company after I finish up, if you’re still awake.”

“Nonsense, Dot. I enjoy your company, but I want you to take some time to relax before you lose that luxury. Now, that’s an order.”

Dot chuckled to herself. “Goodnight, Miss.”

* * *

Phryne’s head swam. She’d dozed in her chair. She couldn’t remember when or how it had happened. She had a vague recollection of Dot quietly tapping on the door before peeking her head in, and then silently backing out of the room once again. 

She had a tingly, almost but not quite drunk feeling, and a sense like floating that felt, frankly, delightful. It had to be the laudanum.

Janey sat on the edge of the bed, her legs curled under her as she watched Phryne with a smile. While parts of the room looked wobbly, Janey was clear and stable. “I know you miss me, but you need to wait longer before you come and join me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You mean my little mishap?” Phryne gestured vaguely at her broken leg. “I miss you, too. Now and always.” Phryne managed a smile as she leaned back in her chair, using a pen in a futile effort to reach an itch underneath her cast. She fumbled and dropped the wretched thing on the floor. “I really wasn’t trying to join you. I just… miscalculated. It seems even the best of us can’t get it right all the time.”

“You gave Jack a fright.”

“He scares far too easily.”

Janey giggled. “If that was true, he’d have run away screaming a long time ago.”

Phryne couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “Probably not screaming. He’s far too dignified for that. But you’re right. I attribute that to stubbornness. He’s _almost_ as stubborn as me.”

“What’s she doing?” Janey asked, looking past Phryne out the window. 

Phryne turned to see the young woman who lived across the street dragging a suitcase that must have been incredibly heavy. She pulled and pushed the thing into her car, pausing now and again in obvious exhaustion. “What could she possibly have in there?” Phryne wondered aloud.

“Bricks?” Janey echoed Phryne’s thought.

Phryne laughed, but her amusement vanished as she watched the young woman apparently wiping sweat off her brow, leaving a very dark streak across her face. “Is that… blood?” she whispered.

The woman glanced around herself furtively; Phryne ducked her head to the side of the window, hoping she wasn’t seen. Something was very wrong. Was that Miss Rogers? 

“Dot!”

* * *

Jack was not at all pleased to be there, judging by the clench in his jaw and the furrow in his brow. The morning light gave a lovely shine to his neatly combed hair. He had been courteous, as ever, to Dot, but was clearly annoyed with Phryne. Sometimes Jack surprised her; this was not one of those times.

“No one answered the door across the street.” Jack hadn’t even bothered to bring backup. “Miss Fisher, how much pain medication have you taken?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“You admitted you’d been dreaming about your sister. Your mind is… not at its sharpest.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know what I saw, Jack. That woman was moving a body.” She hadn’t even found it strange to be talking to her sister, not until afterward. But that hardly mattered. She’d been quite awake when she’d looked out that window. Probably. What if it had been a dream? But what if it _hadn’t?_ “Can you afford to simply assume I’m mistaken, without bothering to investigate?”

Jack heaved an exasperated sigh. “Miss Fisher, you need to rest.”

“At least go take a look around.”

He sighed. “I did. There was nothing amiss.”

“You didn’t go inside.”

“No, and I won’t be going inside without any compelling evidence.”

“You have an eye witness!” As soon as she’d said it, she knew he was likely going to come back at her with a sarcastic quip. Before he could, “Jack.” She looked up at him, studying his face. “Aren’t we past this? Haven’t we learned to trust each other?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then lifted his hand toward her face, his fingertips just barely caressing her hair before falling away. “More than anyone,” he said, his voice coming out in a soft growl that stirred a flicker of desire within her. “And I will again once I know your head is clear.” He turned to go.

“You can’t tell me you trust me while choosing not to trust me, Jack!”

His only response was a subtle slumping of his shoulders as he left.

After all that they’d been through together, how they’d counted on each other and listened to each other. She considered herself a highly capable woman. For once she was incapacitated. And Jack wasn’t going to help her when she truly needed him.

“Miss?” Dot’s voice was soft, gentle, as always. Phryne hadn’t even heard her approach, distracted by her frustration with Jack. With Dot’s round belly, she was hardly stealthy these days. Perhaps Phryne really was off her game.

“Yes, Dot?”

“I can investigate for you.” Dot wore a small smile, looking uncharacteristically smug; Phryne quickly decided this was a good look on her friend. “After all, I know Peggy. I also know where she hides her spare key.”

“Oh, Dot. What would I ever do without you?” She felt her eyes threaten to mist over, and quickly shook it off with a smile of gratitude.

“I could ask the same of you, Miss.”


	2. Chapter 2

Phryne watched out the window, trying to keep her head low to avoid being seen. Dot carried a basket with her, which Phryne was sure contained something delicious. Dot needed a pretense for being there if Miss Rogers showed up, and the food was a good one. As heavily pregnant as Dot was, she waddled adorably to knock on the front door, and then knocked again. After waiting a bit more, she set down the basket and crouched.

Phryne could see Dot peeking under the mat before standing up, unlocking the door and slipping inside.

Phryne waited, watching. The neighbors bustled about. Little Jack was outside with his father. The two of them sat, rolling a ball back and forth between them. Watching them pass the ball was strangely soothing, relaxing. 

She waited. 

And waited.

At the sound of an approaching motor car, Phryne’s breath caught in her throat. At any other time, she’d be out there making a distraction in order to ensure Dot could slip away undetected. But Phryne was helpless where she was. She could only watch and hope that it wasn’t…

It was Miss Rogers.

Phryne uttered a string of curses that would have made Dot blush.

She watched helplessly as the car slowed to a stop in front of the house. Peggy looked quite haggard as she climbed out; her brown hair was uncombed, and her dress was dirty. She moved slowly, dragging her feet as if utterly exhausted.

Heart racing, Phryne struggled to wrench the window open. She’d call out to Peggy. She’d ask for help getting her breakfast since Dot was out on an errand. It was quite rude, but it would provide enough distraction for Dot. Too bad the window seemed to be quite stuck. With a grown, it moved perhaps a finger’s width, if even that much. She pushed more, resulting in just the left side of the window rising a fraction further, leaving it askew, and more jammed than ever. She simply couldn’t manage the leverage needed to dislodge it.

She pounded on the window, partly in frustration, and partly with the hope of getting Peggy’s attention and beckoning her over.

Evidently oblivious, Peggy went to her front porch, bending down briefly to pick up the basket and peer inside. 

Phryne pounded her fist one last time, defeated. Dot was clever and resourceful, she told herself. Trust Dot.

The ball that little Jack and his father had been playing with had bounced away from them and came to rest near Peggy’s foot. Phryne could almost see Peggy sigh from across the street, as she carefully set the basket down and stared at the ball as if it were a Huntsman spider.

Little Jack and his father were calling out and waving to Peggy, who picked up the ball and began walking over to hand it back to the child. Little Jack took the ball in outstretched arms and hugged it to his chest. The three began talking, although Phryne could see that Peggy clearly was trying to get away, glancing back, inching away.

Phryne sighed with relief when she so Dot waddle out from behind the house, giving the trio a glance and a wide berth as she returned home.

The clever girl. Phryne had taught her well.

* * *

“I’ll go over and speak with Peggy soon.” Dot sat near Phryne, holding some paperwork. “I had enough time to look around before she came home. I found these.” She extended the papers to Phryne.

Phryne leafed through them, frowning. “Doctor’s names, and… nursing homes?”

“That isn’t very surprising, but what was strange was that her Edith, her mother, wasn’t in her room, or anywhere else in that house. I visited with her yesterday, and would be shocked if Peggy somehow managed to relocate her mother overnight, with no assistance from anyone.”

“I certainly didn’t see her mother last night.” Phryne was considering the burden Peggy had been dragging the night before. “Or rather, I didn’t see her mother’s face.”

Dot’s lips pulled back into a tight grimace. “Whatever you saw, something certainly isn’t right.”

“Was Peggy kind to her mother? Or did she seem impatient? Often when people have to care for their elderly parents, they can become abusive. I’m fortunate enough to know that I’ll have help should my parents, especially Father, can no longer care for themselves.”

Dot’s brows knitted as she thought. “She was never unkind that I was able to see, but I would imagine she’d try to hide it if she was.”

“Not from you, Dot. I trust that you would have picked up on something, if it were amiss.”

Dot’s rosy cheeks became even more rosy as she blushed. “Thank you, Miss. Honestly, if anyone seemed abusive, it would be the mother.”

That would give Peggy a motive. Phryne was sure Dot had thought of that.

“At least, she said some very unkind things to Peggy. But her mother was too sick to honestly hurt anyone. But what if I was mistaken?”

“We don’t know that you were. But we’ll get to the bottom of this. Now, I don’t suppose you can convince your dear husband to go with you to speak to Peggy. I would like to go with you myself, but obviously…” Phryne gestured at her legs.

Dot smirked. “Well, he won’t want to go against Jack, but he’ll come along when I try to do it without him.” 

* * *

Dot had been quite right about Hugh grumpily tagging along with her. She’d had to assure him that it was going to be a friendly visit, not official police business that could get Hugh into trouble.

While Dot and Hugh were visiting with Miss Rogers, Phryne went to work phoning the nursing homes, asking if they had an Edith Rogers as a patient. Not a one had heard of the woman.

Phryne tried to tell herself that this was an excellent opportunity for Dot to spread her wings and use everything Phryne had taught her. Still, she wished that there was more she could do; she much preferred working as partners.

When Dot and Hugh had finally returned, Phryne found she’d fallen asleep, her arms acting as a pillow for her head on the desk. She was alerted by the sound of the front door opening. She raised her head, wondering if she had unladylike splotches on her face from sleep. Her hands had gone to sleep right along with her; she shook them impatiently to relieve the pins and needles sensation.

Dot tapped on the door, and entered after Phryne called her in. “We had a pleasant visit with Peggy. She seems out of sorts, if I may say so. Said that she had to send her mother to a nursing home and she misses her. Peggy said she’d been missing a lot of work on account of her mother, and was at risk of losing her job in the factory. Any luck, Miss?”

Phryne sighed. “I suppose that depends on what you mean by luck. None of these nursing homes have a resident named Edith Rogers. Which means Ms. Rogers is at some other place, or her daughter is hiding something. She didn’t happen to tell you the name of the nursing home, did she?”

Dot smiled prettily. “Of course I asked her, Miss. Flemington Suites.”

Phryne leafed through the names of the locations she’d telephoned. “I don’t have that one here. But Flemington sounds familiar for some reason.” She felt that she ought to remember. She really wasn’t at the top of her game.

Dot’s brows knitted in a frown. “I think I’ve heard Cec and Bert mention it.”

“The race course! Thank you, Dot.”

“You think she just made up the place, don’t you?”

“Well, it would be much easier for her to make up a name than give us the name of a real home so we could discover her mother isn’t there.” Phryne glanced at the phone, thoughtful. “Let’s humor her and try anyhow.” It only took a moment for Phryne to ring up the operator and determine what she’d already suspected: no such listing.

“Now we have proof that she lied. This should be enough to convince the Inspector to look into it.”

* * *

Jack stood leaning with one arm against the doorframe of Phryne’s room. Her position in her chair gave her the perfect view of his lean form, one hand in his pocket, coat hanging open, tie ever so slightly askew, giving her the urge to reach out and straighten it. He stood just slightly out of her reach, which a superstitious woman might have taken as a sign, but Phryne was a woman of logic.

“I want to hear you say it, Jack,” she said, her voice coming out low and throaty. 

Jack’s lips quirked ever so subtly, and his adam’s apple bobbed. ‘I was wrong. She fell apart and admitted to everything.”

“And what, precisely, is _everything?”_

“Mrs. Collins was correct. Miss Rogers was in danger of losing her job. But she couldn’t afford the care her mother needed. She says she panicked, and tried to smother her mother with a pillow.”

“Tried to? There must be more. And that doesn’t explain the blood I saw on her.”

“I’m certain someone with your skills must know that smothering a person with a pillow is much more difficult in practice than it is in any cheap mystery novel.”

Phryne nodded. “It takes longer than one might expect, and pillows are actually quite breathable, even if the attacker doesn’t make the easy error of letting go the instant the victim stops moving.”

Jack nodded. “She gave up and stabbed her. She made a valiant effort to clean up the crime scene, but…”

“They always miss something.” Phryne smiled for a moment, but it quickly faded as she thought of this poor sick woman’s end. She sighed. “Dot was helping them. And _I_ would have been able to get her more help, if she’d only reached out.”

“You can’t do everything, Phryne.”

“Just now, I would settle for _anything,_ Jack.”

“You managed to investigate this woman, without ever leaving the room or meeting her.”

“That as all Dot.” Phryne was so proud of her.

Jack turned toward the door. “Of course. It’s her I ought to be speaking to.”

“Jack, wait. Say it again.”

He paused, glancing back at her fondly. “I was wrong. Once you’re up and moving again, which I’ve no doubt will be soon, I will make it up to you.”

There were ways he could make it up to her even in that chair, she thought, but that would make her a nuisance of a guest for Dot and Hugh. So instead, she leaned forward and smiled. “I’ll hold you to that, Inspector.”


End file.
